State representative Christina Ayala stands at the doorway of Ayala's Restaurant, which is owned by her father Alberto "Tito" Ayala on Beechwood Avenue in Bridgeport, Conn., on Wednesday October 16, 2013. Christina Ayala refused to comment on possible criminal charges after an investigation by the State Elections Enforcement Commission. less

State representative Christina Ayala stands at the doorway of Ayala's Restaurant, which is owned by her father Alberto "Tito" Ayala on Beechwood Avenue in Bridgeport, Conn., on Wednesday October 16, 2013. ... more

Alberto "Tito" Ayala walks back to the entrance of Ayala's Restaurant, which he owns, on Beechwood Avenue in Bridgeport, Conn., on Wednesday October 16, 2013. Ayala's daughter, Christina, refused to comment on possible criminal charges after an investigation by the State Elections Enforcement Commission. less

Alberto "Tito" Ayala walks back to the entrance of Ayala's Restaurant, which he owns, on Beechwood Avenue in Bridgeport, Conn., on Wednesday October 16, 2013. Ayala's daughter, Christina, refused to comment on ... more

Though her brief political career has been rocked with controversy, she finds solace at the long wooden rail, her mentor and consoler the bartender -- her father Alberto "Tito" Ayala.

She was driving from the restaurant in the summer of 2012, one day after claiming victory in her Democratic primary, when she struck another vehicle and fled the scene.

Then there was the incident in which police said she slapped her then-boyfriend Pedro Rodriguez in the home they shared -- out of her district.

And police are still investigating an incident last month where Ayala, apparently carrying a torch for Rodriguez, allegedly attacked his new girlfriend when the duo just happened to stop for a drink at Ayala's restaurant.

A short time later, police said Rodriguez torched Ayala's car outside her in-district Brooks Street home.

Wednesday, hours after state officials recommended the freshman state representative and her mother face criminal prosecution for elections violations, where was Ayala?

Sitting at dad's, three empty shot glasses arranged in front of her.

Ayala was chatting away in Spanish with her sister, Anis, when another customer let her know a pair of reporters were standing behind her.

If she was shocked, Ayala quickly covered it up with a mellow friendliness.

She greeted the reporters, saying she was celebrating Anis' birthday.

Could she comment on the day's events?

"It is an ongoing investigation," Ayala said. "Unfortunately at this moment I cannot comment."

Ayala showed some irritation with a newspaper photographer, and asked him to delete any photos he'd taken and not shoot any more.

"Hopefully when this is all done and over we can chat," she told the reporters.

Soon, Ayala's father appeared. The consummate bartender, he was all smiles but said very little of substance.

Should she and her mother resign?

Tito said if he were in their position, he would leave it up to the voters.

"Let the people decide," he said.

He continued to happily discuss the history of his establishment as he walked the reporters out to the sidewalk.

Some things have changed from the days when Ayala's Restaurant was the former Bon Ton, a hard drinking establishment owned by a Fairfield University English professor named Michael McDonnell. In those days, it was frequented by newspaper reporters, working men and local politicos with a literary bent.

In the 1970s and '80s, the Bon Ton was an after-work joint serving hot roast beef sandwiches and 25-cent drafts. Alberto "Tito" Ayala bought the place in 1993, and by that time it was a shadow of the shadow it had been.

On Wednesday, Christina Ayala finally emerged from the bar to check on her father and the two talked about the new sign they were going to be putting up outside. The current one bears a photograph of El Moro.

"You know, that's the big fort in Old San Juan, Puerto Rico," said Christina Ayala. "It's really beautiful, you should see it."

A long wooden bar has replaced the round one of old, and large flat-screen TVs hang from opposite walls of the rectangular room. A paper jack o' lantern hung from a thread inside the front door.

Outside, a sandwich sign listed a number of Puerto Rican and American dishes on the menu that day: Mofungo, wings and pernil.

"I have this lady who works in the kitchen who cooks really good," Tito said.

At the other end of the bar a man and a woman, who both described themselves as longtime patrons, each held a complimentary shot. "These are good people," the man said.